


as I fall asleep to lullabies, the morning's coming soon

by RainbowRandomness



Series: Leading Up To Christmas... [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Challenge Response, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 08:06:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowRandomness/pseuds/RainbowRandomness
Summary: Connor smiles, happy to see him. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. "Good morning Hank."Hank's eyes are impossibly blue where the light catches them, a clear, pale blue that makes Connor's thirium pump kick up a notch. When Hank looks at him, Connor's breathing falters, catching in his throat.





	as I fall asleep to lullabies, the morning's coming soon

**Author's Note:**

> part of the [Leading Up To Christmas...](/) challenge on dreamwidth; _25th -- > waking up Christmas morning_
> 
> ayye it's the last instalment for the Christmas prompt thing! it's been nice, writing a lil something each day for crimbo. thank you everyone for reading my short lil fics, thank you for everyone commenting, and I hope everyone's havin a grand Christmas. 
> 
> Title from _That's Christmas To Me_ by Pentatonix

It's a gentle morning. The sky is a clear blue, the sun soft as it makes its way lazily into the sky. It peaks through the blinds in lines of pale gold, specks of dust dancing in its offered light. It bathes the bedcovers, caresses pale, mole dotted skin, highlights silver hair that lies across the pillow. From outside the window a bird chirps, singing to the rising sun, and from inside the warm bedroom someone stirs, blue light blinking as he wakes.

Connor opens his eyes slowly, blinking to readjust his optics. His back feels warm, the sun's rays falling across his bare shoulder blades, and Hank's large hand splayed across his lower back, hot and possessive, intimate and sweet. Connor arches into the feel of it, stretches his shoulders slightly while trying not to move too much. Hank is still sleeping beside him, face tucked mostly into the pillow and mouth parted on soft snores.

Connor allows himself the time to recalibrate as he waits for Hank to wake naturally. He checks the weather report (it’s chilly outside, clear skies, a chance for snow later in the evening), sets himself a list of things to do (fill Sumo's food bowl, make Hank breakfast, take Sumo for a walk, open presents, amongst other things) and then simply allows himself to admire Hank as he sleeps peacefully.

Connor has a tendency to wake before Hank does, though he doesn't mind. It gives him ample time to admire his partner in a safe space where Hank feels he can let his guard down. Connor usually takes the time to catalogue each small detail of Hank, committing the data to his memory and backing it up elsewhere just in case.

He takes in the details of Hank's hair, the length of it, the way it's grey until the light hits it and turns it silver. He takes in the thickness of his beard, how it feels against the pads of his sensitive fingers; the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips, the small gap between his two front teeth that makes Connor want to kiss him, that makes his smile seem just that tad kinder, a strange little detail for a man like Hank to have. Connor takes in the smooth plane of his forehead, the slackness of his jaw, the way his brow isn't furrowed when he sleeps. The way his cheeks have a light dusting of pink from the warmth of the bedroom, the way his dark lashes flutter ever so slightly as he dreams.

Connor shifts, raising his right hand to caress gently across Hank's face. He brushes his fingers across his cheek, through his beard, and then settles on cupping his face, rubbing his thumb absentmindedly through the thick beard hair. It's rough against the pad of his thumb, tickling his sensors.

A few more minutes pass before Hank shifts, his breathing picking up just so as he wakes. His brow furrows, and he shifts beneath Connor's hand as though stretching. After another beat, he opens his eyes, slow, blinking into the light of the morning sun.

Connor smiles, happy to see him. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. "Good morning Hank."

Hank's eyes are impossibly blue where the light catches them, a clear, pale blue that makes Connor's thirium pump kick up a notch. When Hank looks at him, Connor's breathing falters, catching in his throat.

"Hmm," Hank hums in reply. His hand moves to rest atop Connor's where he's cupping Hank's face and Connor almost stumbles over his own breathing program all over again when Hank's thumb strokes gently across his hand, back and forth, a repetitive motion that has him distracted.

It seems to take Hank a few moments to gather his bearings, his eyes clearing as he becomes more awake. Eventually he seems to realise what day it is and his lips pull up into a small smile, intimate and private, reserved just for Connor.

"Merry Christmas, Connor."

His voice is low, gravelly from sleep. It sounds wonderful and Connor shivers and moves to nestle closer.

"Merry Christmas, Hank."

He tucks himself closer, hand moving from cupping Hank's jaw to inside slip to the back of his neck. His fingers stroke through the hair at the nape and then he's drawing Hank in, and though he's smiling into the kiss, it's the best Christmas kiss he could ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> come follow me on [tumblr](http://rainbow-randomness.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/RainbowRandoms) | [dreamwidth](https://rainbowrandomness.dreamwidth.org/)
> 
> I do not give permission to have any of my works put up on goodreads or any other such site.


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